^ 



^.: 






A POEM. 
2Si) Sames J=. JJorsijtl). 




NOP.WICH : 

JOHN W. STEDMAN. 

18 50 



,fc^' 









Press o^ 
john w. stedman, 

12 9 M A I N - S T . , 
NORWICH. 



Dear Sir : — In considering to whom I slioiild 
have the honor of inscribing the present produc- 
tion, I know of no one to whom that ceremony 
conld be more appropriately, and to me more 
satisfactorily, performed, than to yourself. It 
purports to be a poem relating to Norwich — its 
early and its present aspects : a native of Nor- 
wich, nvirtured amid her romantic hills and 
beautiful scenery, and, though for several years 
past a resident in a far Western State, still bound 
by the ties of sympathetic attachment to the 
place of your birth, which is also yet the home 
of your dearest kindred, you, I feel confident, 
will regard with interest whatever, even though 
it be in a humble manner, sets out to treat of 
her in terms of just praise and celebration. 
The propriety of this dedication will be still 
more apparent, when the circumstances which 
induced my poem are considered. It was a 
Lyceum performance. You, Sir, Ihave reason 
to know, will never look with indifference upon 
the efforts of young men associated together for 
the purpose of mental improvement, in the 
Lyceum and Debating School. You yourself 
were in former years an active participant in 



IV DEDICA.riON. 

sitch scenes — the life and soul of the Social 
Club ; and am I wi-ong in supposing that the 
discipline there acquired, and the triumphs 
there so often achieved by you, in the encoun- 
ter of logic and wit, have had their legitimate 
influence in preparing you for those more im- 
portant and exciting forensic efl'orts in which 
you have since been called to engage, with such 
distinction, at the Bar and in the Halls of Con- 
gress '? 

I have alluded to the fact that you are now 
the citizen of another town and State. Though 
this be so, we can never forget that you were 
of us, nor cease to feel a generous pride at that 
reputation — destined yet to increase — which, as 
a Counsellor, a Statesman, and a gallant Officer 
in the late Mexican War, surrounds your 
name. 

Trusting that you will place a value upon 
this inscription, determined not by the merits 
of the performance itself, but by that higher 
and safer standard, the attachment and respect- 
ful consideration which prompted to the act, 
I subscribe myself, 
Your sincere friend and admirer, 
JAMES F. FORSYTH. 

Norwich, December 1-2, 1850. 



^htUit^ 



The following poem was delivered, at two 
readings, before the Young Men's Lyceum of 
this City, in accordance with a rule of the as- 
sociation requiring Essays from its members, as 
a part of its stated exercises. The aiithor never 
anticipated its publication in the present, nor 
indeed in any form ; and in its preparation little 
thought was expended, beyond what was ne- 
cessary for the gratification of a passing fancy 
and the fulfilment of an imposed duty. To 
poetical talent he makes no pretensions ; a dis- 
claimer, the wisdom of which v/ill probably be 
readily assented to by the reader. Yet, the sug- 
gestion having been made with much earnest- 
ness by some of his friends, that it would be 
well to give the production in question publici- 
ty ; and, superadded to this, a formal request 
for its publication having been made by the 
Lyceum; the present volume is respectfully, 
though not altogether without reluctance, sub- 
mitted to the public. 



i vi 



P B n F A C E 



The engravings, executed by the best artists 
in the City of New York, have been introduced 
at considerable expense, and the whole work 
has been prepared in a style that evinces care- 
ful regard to mechanical execution. These 
considerations, together with the fact of the 
local character of the poem itself, and the ne- 
cessarily circumscribed circulation of which 
under the most favorable circumstances it is 
capable, will readily suggest an explanation of 
the price at which it has been deemed necessary 
to place it on sale. 



NOHWICH — A POEM. 



f\F our sweet Town and City now I sing, 
The associations which around it chng ; 
Now in brief numbers, passing quickly through 
Its Rise and Progi-ess, I shall bring to view 
Its Present state, the changes wrought from old, 
As onward Time's slow chariot-wheels have 

rolled ; 
On points of interest with due fervor dwell. 
Passing wher'er the Fancy's reins impel. 
Like the industrious bee in Summer hour, 
I'hat hastes on brilliant wing from flower to 

flower. 
Extracts from each the hidden treasure swi;et, 
Then hies it to its wild far-oflf retreat. 



10 NORWICH A POEM. 

Romantic Norwich ! let my tlioughts ex- 
pand — 
Let language copious, beautiful and gi-and, 
Be mine, to grasp and fitly utter forth 
Tliy natural beauties and thy civic worth. 
A stranger — one no more — from distant cKme, 
AVhose air is scented with the fragrant lime, 
Wliere springs forth verdure in spontaneous 

shoots, 
And laden are the trees with ti'opic fruits, 
I came to thee — more beauteous to my eye, 
As in thy Winter's garb tliou yet didst lie, 
Than where Earth 's covered with perennial 

green, 
And Nature's most voluptuous forms are seen. 
Thy snow-capped hills, without the power to 

chill, 
Through my young veins sent but a warming 

thrill ; 
In merry troupe, along thine ice-bound banks, 
I saw the skaters play their nimble pranks. 



NORWICn — A POEM. 11 

While the Sun shed in diamond points his beams 
Upon the surface of thy frozen streams. 
And soon I learned to mingle in the strife, 
The sports and pleasures of a Winter's life, 
To dash aside witli glee the fallen snow. 
And from the cold to feel a hveher glow.. 
The frost — how ciiriously it did appear ; 
And then, at times, each tree a chandelier, 
Whose outspread arms a load of crystals bore, 
Sparklingly bright ! — sight never seen before, 
Or fancied, save in Eastern fairy tale. 
Where magic groves the traveler's eyes regale. 



Stich were thy Winter's charms ; and when 
the Spring 
Its genial influences once again did bring— 
The Sun tiprising with the lengthening days. 
Sent do^vn on Earth his vi\'ifying rays — 
How brightly then thy varied beauties shone ! 
Thy mantling iiills with verdure overgrown — 



12 KORWICE — A POEM. 

Tliy groves, whose arches now wild m\isic fills, 
Thy pleasant vales, made glad with sparkling 

rills ; 
Thy meadowy fields, spread out in vistas long, 
Where cattle low and quails pipe out their song. 
Thy sti-eams, relieved from cold paralysis. 
Now swollen torrents, turbid, roar and hiss 
Their banks between ; 'till Nature's throes soon 

o'er, 
Their placid waters wound along the shore. 
And, then, thy lonely walks, retiring far. 
Where man God's handiwork has failed to mar ; 
The laurel foot-path, the secluded glen, 
The deep-shaded bower, and the hennifs den. 
With " wild-wood flowers," that, yielding to the 

tread. 
Forth on the air their dainty fragr mce shed. 
— Ah ! those were choicest hours of boyhood's 

days, 
When, clambering up some hill-side's devious 

ways, 



NOBWICH A POSil. 13 

I've gazed at eve upon thine outspread charms, 
Sweet Norwich ! circled in by silvery arms ;(1) 
Have marked thy gently imdulating plains, 
Traced here and there with clear meandering 

veins — 
Tliy forest hills, where Romance loves to dwell. 
Thy valleys, echoing to the sounding bell — 
Thy peaceful homes and scenes of rural life, 
Pleasingly mingled with commercial strife ; 
Heard the wild, plaintive note of whippoorwill 
Pierce the soft air, erewhile so hushed and still, 
Save as the low and distant anthem roar 
Broke on the car, where Yantic's waters pour. 

Majestic sound ! how long the ages past. 
Since first thine echoes mingled with the blast ! 
Continuous music ! Nature's solemn bass ! 
Filhng with munnurs all surrounding space. 
Thy deep tones reach me now, and lead my 

thought 
Back to those days when first the settler sought 



li S-ORWICH A POEM. 

A home within these ancient wooded vales, 
'Till then mark d only by wildsava.je tra's. 
Thoiigh long the wasted years which intervene, 
Imagination pictures out the scene : 
The beetling crags, the thick-growTi fores c trees, 
Sunlight scarce piercing their interstices ; 
The river with its sedgy banks, or lined 
With densest foliage, to its waves inclined — 
Upon whose shore, in contemplative mood, 
The Indian hunter oft at eve has stood, 
Or on its bosom in canoe was seen, 
Ruffling with agile strokes its silver sheen. 
Near yonder rock, the Indian maiden oft 
Laved her round hmbs, so dusky yet so soft, 
Assured that no observing eye was near, 
Save the fixed gaze of the admiring deer. 
Then, too, were wafted on the evening air. 
The bowlings of the panther and the bear ; 
The owlefs sombre notes, thebittena's screams ; 
And worse than these, inducing feai-ful dreams, 



NORWICH- 



The savage Indian's wild, iinearthly yell, 
That pierced and echoed through each lonely 
dell. 



Bnt when the Sun arose, the midnight fright 
Was scattered by the cheerful morning light. 
The heavy mists uproUing in the morn, 
Dissolved, or by the zephyrs onward borne,. 
The Landscape's varied features now disclose, 
Lying in deep and beautiful repose. 
How hushed the scene ! rendered more lonely 

still. 
As rose the thrvmi of the woodpecker's bill. 
On yon fallen ti-ee, the wild-fowl in his pride, 
Silently sat and watched the flowing tide, 
Or sleeked his plumage with a kingl air — 
The solitude to him no caxise of fear. 
Here, ushering forth at break of early dawn, 
To slake her thirst, appeared the timorous fawn, 
Watching her image 'neath the glassy sheet 
That lay extended at her graceful feet. 



16 NOBW^ICH A POEM. 

There the tall banks, ensconced in shadow, 

throw 
Their mirrored outlines in the stream below, 
Where finny tribes, unseen by himian eye, 
Sportively gambol in reflected sky : 
While the whole Landscape is displayed to view, 
Dripping with moisture, glistening with the dew, 
'Till, mounting o'er the hills with stately grace. 
The effulgent Svm beams forth upon the place. 

Years rolled away ; in which arose to view, 
The settlers' dwellings, isolate and few.(2) 
Amid the wilderness bright spots appear. 
Where rang the woodman's accents sharp and 

clear. 
And from sequestered points, when morning 

broke, 
Ascended up faint lines of curling smoke. 
Plain were the habits and the modes which then 
Prevailed among those honest-hearted men ; 
Taught from their youth adversity to face, 
A hardy, frugal and adventurous race, 



NORWICH A POEM. 17 

Here in the wild-wood fixed they their abode, 
Beneath the aegis of their Father, God. 

And need there was of His outspreading arms, 
Amid the hai-dships and the dread alarms 
Which marked the history of that early date. 
Such guardedness (historians so relate) 
Was needed 'gainst the ruthless Indian foe, (3) 
That armed, to church, the settlers oft did go ; 
And as the Pastor otFered up his prayer, 
Eyes glanced around with anxious, watchful 

care. 
Meantime, the painted tribes in deadly feud, (4) 
Their murderous hands with "brother's blood" 

embrued ; 
Were heard the fearful warwhoopfrom afar, 
And all the bowlings of the savage war. 
What wonder, then, that Beauty's cheek grew 

pale. 
As passed from mouth to mouth the di-eadful 

tale — 

3 



18 NORWICH A. POEM. 

j That Childliood, lying on its downy bed, 

j Drew snugly up the covering o'er its head — 

t While dauntless Manhood scanned the peril 

! near, 

j Prepared to gaiard each household ti'easure dear. 

O'er yonder hills, that, southward to the eve, 
I Rear their broad summits 'gainst the azure sky, 
I 'Mong valleys watered by the winding Cove,(5) 
j A fearless band of warriors then did rove. 
j These plains and hills, outstretching far around, 
j Formed portions of their lordly hunting ground. 
Dire were the conflicts which their strength 

engaged, 
With neighboring rival tribes so fiercely waged ; 
Subtle the arts which oft to victory led, 
And keen the aim with which their arrows sped ; 
And when returned from the murderous chase, 
Innumerous scalps their dingy wigwams grace. 
Far o'er the plains which now rich fruitage yield, 
Extended lay their bloody battle-field ; 



NORWICH — A POEM. 19 

From East, where flows Shetucket's hastening 

tide, 
Westward to Yantic's verdant river-side. 
The striiggUng bands their homd warfare led — 
The victors dancing o'er the fallen dead, 
Or hastening onward in the hot pursuit, 
O'er hill and plain with phrenzied ardor shoot, 
Driving their vanquished foes, with hideous yell, 
(Such is the legend which men often tell,) 
Adown the steep and terrible abyss, (6) 
Where Yantic's waters pour and foam and hiss. 

Not always such the scene; periods there 
were 
Of holy cabn, when nought was seen astir 
Of warhke inien ; but mingluig in the chase, 
Or idly basking in some sunny place. 
The Indian waixior passed his hours of ease, 
Or sought with gentle arts his Love to please — 
That Love as coy, as difficult to woo, 
As e'er was maiden of a fairer hue : 



20 NORWICH — A POEM. 

Now round the council-fire, in grave suspense, 
Listed to strains of fervid eloquence ; 
Anon engaged in some fantastic dance, 
Viewed by the rest with fixed, approving glance; 
In unrestraint, reheved from cautious doubts, 
Made the wild forests ring with sportive shouts ; 
And yielding to the claims of War's release. 
Buried the tomahawk, smoked the "pipe of 
Peace." 

The Indian Love — dark beauty of the land ! 
Callous the "Brave" who could thy charms 

withstand. 
Of rounded foi-m and supple limb, and mien 
That well befitted a wild forest queen — 
Eyes of strange blackness, and a snake-hke 

charm 
That seized its victim but refrained from harm — 
Warm, ripened lips — and just disclosed to sight, 
Teeth that might rival pearls, so pure and white. 
While her dark hair in glossy tresses fell 
Adown her back — such was the Indian belle ! 



HORWICH — A POEM. 21 

And siich, one evening as the setting Sun 
Threw his last mellow, peaceful rayavipon 
The Landscape, and the golden clouds o'erhead 
In gorgeous banks were fancifully spread — 
Such was the being — ^lovely, fearless child 
Of Nature — that, deserting sports too wild 
To always please, wandered in pensive mood, 
Along the edge of yonder range of wood ; — 
A favorite haunt, when tender thoughts inspired, 
Or jealous rage her untamed bosom fired. 
Here ran the stream, her mirror ; and the vow 
Of love had here been uttered oft. But now 
She pauses ; and her cautious, eager glance 
Bespeaks her doubt — retreat or bold advance. 
Mark now the meeting! 'Twas a pale-faced 

maid, 
Who, as it chanced, her onward progress stayed. 
Of loveliest mould was she, and to the sight 
Of Indian maiden seemed a Spirit bright. 
Like bird before the charmer, trembling, 

swaying, 
Now bending low and now in posture praying, 



yy NORWICH A POEM. 

The forest girl her adoration showed, 
And at the vision's feet quite prostrate bowed. 
A smile, half fear, half love, in beauty played 
Upou the features of the pale-faced maid. — 
Oh, 'twas indeed a curious, touching sceue, 
That meeting of the maid and forest qvxeen : 
Type of the conquest won by race o'er race, 
Rude homage to superior mind and grace. — 
Some time she gazed, nor would the silence 

break : 
At length with kindly voice the maiden spake — 
" Sister, arise !" — Scarce uttered was the sound, 
When with a wild leap springing from the 

groTind, 
The Indian girl within a thicket daited. 
Thus met the two — thus suddenly were parted : 
Each to relate with wonder what befell — 
The pale-faced maiden and the Indian belle ! 

Thus sped the time in those primeval days — 
Fit theme to occupy the poet's lays : 



ITOBVriCH A POEM. 26 

But as the settlers sought a wider range, 
Mj pen essays to note the gi-adnal change. 

Where far around the tangled covert spread, 
And forest beasts their savage orgies led — 
AVhere lay unmeasured fields and trackless 

plain. 
And Nature's vs^ildness filled the wide domain — 
Soon interposed the hand of patient toil, 
And laid its imprint on the virgin soil. 
Order and Method vied with simple Taste, 
To clear and beautify the shapeless waste. 
Upon the hill-side sprang the waving grain, (7) 
The flowery buckwheat whitened o'er the main, 
And ranks of spiky maize their honors tossed, 
Rising aroiind like an embattled host. 
Enough for all, and still enough to spare, (8) 
Each man, of land, possessed his proper share ; 
With frugal art improved his small estate. 
Cheered by the presence of his wedded mate. 
Thus, by degi-ees, the settlement arose. 
And busy thrift was blent with calm repose. 



24 KOBWICH — A POEM. 

Arcadian Age! how sweetly must have flown 
Thy peaceful hours along ; how thickly strewn 
With scenes of innocence and quiet joy, 
Scarce intermingled with Earth's base alloy. 
The daily task complete, returned at night, 
What cheer and comfort blessed the good man's 

sight. 
Sweet prattling voices, and the housewife's 

smile. 
His burdens lighten and his cares beguile. 
Within the spacious fire-place tipward loom 
The cheerful flames — their lustre round the 

room ; 
While on the smoking board, prepared with 

care. 
Was bountifully spread the evening fare. 
High round the walls, or pendent from the 

beams. 
For Winter use, the glistening "crook-neck" 

gleams ; 
And branching antlers — trophies of the chase — 
With musket slung aloft, the precincts grace. 



NORWICH — A POEM 2 

AH told of household thrift, bespoke content, 
And to the scene attractive beauties lent. 



Of all the kindly seasons most enjoyed, 
Whose near approach the longing mind em- 
ployed — 
Most fraught with cheer and charitable deeds, 
When were forgot all differences and creeds- 
Was the appointed day of Thanks and Prayer, 
Which crowned the period of the closing year. 
Now garnered safely up the golden corn. 
The fields of all their waving treasure shorn, 
Each gladdening fruit the horn of Plenty pours, 
Now gathered home in rich and bounteous 

store?, 
Like gi-ateful incense, rose, in joyous lays, . 
The voice of thankfulness and pious praise. 
How wanned the heart ! — to generous instincts 

true, 
How every settler's mind expanded grew ! 



26 WOBWICH A POEM 

And when assembled at the festive boatdj 
That groaned beneath the rich, nutritious hoard, 
What cheerful smiles and signs of mutual love 
Hallowed the scene — foretaste of Heaven above. 
Then, (act peculiar to this ancient place,) 
As evening's shadows gathered on apace, 
Arose from hill -tops, in a lengthened spire, 
The fiercely-crackling, luminous bonfire : 
And thus 'midst shouts and boisterous display. 
Were closed the pastimes of the glorious day. 

The poet's blessings on those virtuous dames 
Who flourished then, with curious Scripture 

names ; 
Or those indeed of equal singularity— 
"Experience," "Thankful,'^ "Silence," "Sub- 
mit," " Charity." * 
No idle, gadding, wasteful queaue were they. 
Each tliought bestowed on frivolous display ; 
But, apt to toil, between each stated meal, 
Sat down to play upon the — spinning-wheel ; 



KORWICH A. POEM, 97 

And from the loom substantial fabrics rolled, 
To serve as covering from the Winter's cold. 

Departed women ! still your virtues shine 
Like brilliants, products of the richest mine ; 
Each lighted etai-, each flovv-er that blossoms 

forth, 
Reminds us of your purity and worth : 
Though dead, your graces live ; and Memory 

e'er 
Shall linger round you with affection's tear 

In fancy trace the scene : with every year 
New settlements successively appear ; 
Around Improvement waved her magic wand, 
And smiling Beauty dwelt upon the land. 
With every year the population grew, 
A noble race— to Liberty how true I 
Discussions bearing on the general weal 
Now oft succeed, and men began to feel 
A pubhc spirit, and the various cares 
Of social and political affairs ; 



28 NORWICH— A POEM. 

Just regulations framed, and penal laws, 
To favor Justice, further Virtue's cause. 
As Time its journey onward slowly sped, 
New generations rose, then mingled with the 

dead; 
Until at length, by Freedom's love impelled, 
Now grown apace, the Colonies rebelled ; 
Slowly but sure, deep-sown in hearts, the seed.'? 
Of Independence ripened into deeds ; (9) 
And here, as elsewhere, O fair Liberty ! 
Was reared an altar dedicate to thee. 

And onward still the years progressive rolled, 
Leaving their imprints on the gathered fold : 
Peace reigned — Arts flourished — sails of 

Commerce filled, 
And Heaven its blessings o'er the place 
distilled. 



NORWICH — A POEM, 



A S slumberer waking from protracted sleep, 
Marked by dim visions, and the phantom 
6 weep 
Of objects seen in indistinct array, 
Hails with delight the brilliant dawn of day, — 
So now, emerging from the misty Past, 
With specti-al shadows thickly overcast. 
Do we the Present scan, spread out to sight 
Beneath the lustre of the noon-day hght. 

Could by some magic power the dead arise, 
Or make to Earth a visit from the skies, 
Review the sacred spots where once they dwelt, 
Feel the same passion's rule which once they 
felt,— 



strangely would those ancestral spirits gaze, 
Who here inhabited in former days, 
Upon the prospect now disclosed to view- 
Each early scene so altered and so new. 
Instead of that dense mass of forest trees, 
Which rose so wild and rustled in the breeze, 
Shrouding the Earth in deep and noisome shade, 
While through their branches restless squirrels 

played, 
Behold a City built, the work of man— 
The various signs of architectural plan — 
Structures of costly art, the residence 
Of wealth, industry, and intelligence, 
Or costlier still, erected to that God 
The fathers worshipped, who here early trode. 
The eye reposes on the smiling scene, 
Sculptured from barren rocks and forests green. 



Those ancient ti'ees ! — alas, how few remain. 
To link the spirit with the Past again. 



NORWICH — A POEM. 33 

E'en the old Oak, that by the homestead grew, 
And seemed tvith age its vigor to renew ; 
That, undismayed, withstood the stonn's fierce 

ire, 
The raging whirlwind, and the Ughtning's fire ; 
Beneath whose branches at the noon of day, 
When Sol poured down on Earth his hottest 

ray, 
The weary cattle loved awhile to steal, 
Or husbandman partook his frugal meal ; 
Or, when at night the checkering moonlight fell. 
Fond lovers met their mutual vows to tell ;(10) 
E'en that old tree, so kindly, strong and brave, 
Has long since fallen within a lowly grave. 

In vain too does the hovering spirit look 
For those fanailiar spots so long forsook : 
The simple cottage that so nestling stood 
Just by the verge of some long range of wood, 
The scene within of many a holy joy, 
Or to the stranger acting as decoy, 



34 N03WICH A POEM. 

When wanderiBg far at night, fatigued, he sees 
The distant candle-hght glimmering through 

the trees ; 
The ancient well, with mossy bucket himg, 
Near where the Oak its cooling shadows flung ; 
The old farm-yard, where merry chanticleer 
Sounded his note when sti-eaks of dawn appear. 

The rugged foot-paths leading through the 
place, 
In vain the spirit-eye now seeks to trace ; 
But in their stead, the nicely " graded" street, 
Or travelled "highway" wotild its vision meet ; 
While in our city prints, could it but read, 
'T would often find it solemnly decreed 
In " Comnicn Council," that by such a day 
There must be made a "flagged" and "curbed" 

sideway. 
" Alas !" the spirit cries, as round it stalks — 
" Improved no doubt ! but — give me back those 
walks, 



N0BV7ICH A POSH 35 

If nigged, yet so gi'een and mossy too, 
Along whose side the blue-eyed violet grew ; 
Whose narrow range was Uned with tender 

grass, 
With verdant shrub or scented sassafras ; 
Where, in my time, the playful lambkins 

skipped, 
Or oft at dewy morn the maiden tripped." 

Nor at this point would its wide wonder cease, 
New views, new marvels, momently increase. 

For, (sight astounding e'en to modern eyes,) 
Along those banks precipitously inclined. 
That in its day the silent river lined. 
Wild, rocky, brambled o'er, in solitude, 
Where foot of man was never known to intrude, 
A monster fast approaching it espies : 
With terrible front, vomiting smoke. 
Like some Imge fiend from prison broke, 
Dragging in its lengthened wake 
A load, like some strange monstrous snake, 
JNIaking the Earth around it quake, 



3b NORWICH A POEAiT. 

With lightning-speed it passes the spot, 

Hissing, roaring, fiery-hot, 

Like giant ball from cannon shot ; 

Then raises a screech, how loud and fell ! 

Shriller than e'er was Indian's yell, 

Or damned spirit's evolved from hell. 

— It turns to note its rapid flight, 

But lo ! the thing is out of sight. 

In deep amaze, the spirit-wanderer next 
Along the stream its onward steps directs ; 
Noting on either hand the marvellous change- 
Each ancient spot appearing, oh how strange ! 
But long ere reaching the old river fords, (11) 
Where crossed in war's pursuit the Indian 

hordes 
That met in contest fierce on Sachem's Plain, 
Their arrows falling hke the pattering rain — 
It pauses ; — for a scene of busy life, 
Of active labor and industrial strife 
Bursts on its gaze : the wilderness it sees 
Become the seat of numerous factories. 



NORWICH A POEM. 37 

Whose constant hum and busy clickinga fill 
The space around, once so pi'ofoundly still ; 
Startling long since the genius of the stream. 
The Beaver, from its ancient, quiet dream : 
While all around a smiling village rears 
Its head — an air of thrift and comfort wears ; 
Like thee, "sweet Auburn," sung in sweeter 

strain 
By poet(l'2), "loveliest village of the plain," 
Ere 'midst thy bowers the tyrant's hand was 

seen, 
And desolation saddened all thy gi-een. 

The spirit turns ; and journeying toward the 

West, 
Feels at each step with novelty oppressed. 
Passing the farthest ville, (since changed its 

name,) 
Which to this day retains its ancient fame, 
Through the old peaceful Town it slowly roams. 
Where first the settlers reared their quiet 

homes. 



38 NORWICH — A POEM. 

Does here the curious spirit-wanderer find 

Aught that presents a souvenir to the mind ? 

Alas ! if for a moment kindhng high 

With pleasure, as some vista meets the eye, 

It deems, exulting, it has found at last 

A spot — a structure — that recalls the Past, 

As quick as gloom succeeds the lightning 

flashes, 
A closer view its rising prospects dashes. 
E'en the old quiet Town, so staid beside, 
Has yielded to Advancement's sweeping tide — 
The seat of many a cultured dwelling, where 
Life is drawn out, removed from bustling care. 

On speeds the spirit of the Ancient Past, 
With eager glances still around it cast ; 
Views with a pensive, yet a pleased smile, 
(Pausing to gaze upon the spot awhile,) 
Where men at last with foul Corruption wed— 
The new-created City of the Dead. 
About the sacred ground with lightly tread 



ITORWICH A POEil. 39 

It passes— each narrow grassy mound 
Echoing to spirit's sense its foot-fall's sotmd ; 
Sees many a spot with blooming flowers made 

glad- 
Flowers fed by mourners' tears, so sweetly sad ; 
While through the whole enclosed area there, 
Are marks of studied taste and pious care. 

But hark ! what noise is that the spirit hears, 
Like deep-toned murmurs floating to the ears ? 
With animated eye and hurried bound 
It hastens forward — ^louder grows the sound. 
" Ah ! Voice familiar,'' thus the spirit said — 
'■Thou, thou remain'st, though all things else 

ai-e fled ; 
The same to-day, as when in earliest time 
Thou mingledstin with Nature's solemn chime ; 
The same, O Voice, as when in Childhood's days 
Thou fill'dst my soul with pleasure and amaze. 
Ages to come will find no change in thee, 
Thou truest emblem of eternity !" 



40 NOHWICH — A POEM. 

Thu3 spake the spirit; when from out the 
Falls, 
('Tis this which to its mind the Past recalls,) 
There came a voice in accents clear and long, 
And thus it trembling rose in plaintive song : 

I'm a child of the forest, and long have I lain 
Beneath these dark waves which so fearfully 
pour ; 

Oh, tell me, shall never the lost spirit gam 
A sight of the happy and bhssful shore i 

That shore where the spirits of brave warriors 
roam, 
Where the Great Spirit dwelleth majestic and 
bright. 
And gathering his dusky-skinned progeny home, 
He crowns them with honor and every 
dehght ? 

Oh, tell me, shall never I enter those grounds, 
So covered with verdure, the sky so serene. 
Where, ready for hunting, the wild game 
abounds, 
And lit upwith beauty appears the whole 
scene ? 



NORWICH — A POEM. 41 

Shall never I wander those bright isles among, 
Where the Indian-brave glides in his gilded 
canoe, 
Nor join evermore in the war-dance and sdng, 
Nor mingle in sports which brave warriors 
pursue i 

O child of the forest ! long though thou hast lain 
Beneath these dark waves which so fearfully 
pour, 

'Tis decreed by the Spirit, no coward shall gain 
A sight of that happy and blissful shore. 



When hushed the voice, full well the wan- 
derer knew 

From whence it came ; one of that craven crew 

Who in blind terror fled from foeman's face, 

And met inglorious death in this wild place. 

Place wild no more ; — for now, with beauteous 
mien, 

Rising around, a village dense is seen ; 

The iron accents of gigantic mills 

Now breaks the silence of the neighboring hills ; 

6 



42 NOBWICH — A POEM. 

With Labor's cry and Industry's low hum, 
Mingled, the sounds of dashing waters come ; 
And merry, shining, onward course the waves, 
Where frighted warriors found their dismal 
graves. 

One spot beside the wanderer turns to tind. 
For of the Past that also will remind — 
The ancient ground where Indian warriors lay, 
Their stalwart frames long mouldering in decay . 
'Mid yonder gi'dve it lies — a place so calm, 
So fresh, so pure, with Nature's holiest balm, 
It seemed that good spirits dwelt among those 

trees. 
Shed fragrance round and whispered in the 

breeze. 
Of all the silent band that fill the place, 
The wanderer seeks in vain their names to 

trace. 
One spot alone, one ancient hillock mound. 
Appears distinct, with recent honor crowned — 



NORWICH — A POEM. 4<i 

One spot alone, superior to the rest, 
Boasts of a monument on its gi-assy crest, 
' Tis tbine, O Uncas ! bravest of the brave, 
Thine is the monument, thine the honored 

;^rave — 
In grateful memory erected there(13) 
By Woman — by our Norwich daughters fair. 
Thus ai'e thy generous deeds, O Warrior bold, 
Remembered, and thy glorious name extolled. 
— The falling leaves and ruddy atmosphere 
Proclaim the glorious Indian Summer near. 
DeUghtful season, when the hunter loved 
To seek the game, through the wild forest 

roved ; 
Ko more enjoyed, its beauties now are shed 
O'er tho still graves where sleep the ancient 

dead. 
X'ictor tiud vanquished, chiefs the deadliest foes, 
Now powerless lie, in solemn, mute repose ;(13) 
While o'er the land where Indian voices rung 
So wild and free, a stranger race has sprimg. 



44 NORWICH A POEM. 

In fancy thus might I these strains prolong, 
As other scenes upon the vision throng ; 
Depict the fancied spirit's pleased surprise, 
As through the place from point to point it hies : 
The Plains, once reached by footpath wild and 

dark, 
Now christened by the modem name of "Park," 
Where, clustered round, in trim and polished 

row, 
The tasty mansions rise — a pleasant show ; 
Or peering forth fi-om groves of tender green, 
The Gothic Cottage— modem rage — is seen. 
The valley eastward, once so desolate, 
Now settled, thriving, populous and great — 
The home of many an honest artizan. 
He worthiest of the appellation — Man. 
The wooded banks that hned the Westward 

Cove, 
Rising in tiers theatric far above 
Its cooling waves that flowed so dark and still. 
Now man's abode, whose happy dwellings fill 



IJTORWICH — A POEM. 46 

Tlie space entire, while sunny gardens reach 
By gradual slopes, down to the watery beacli. 
That winding stream to the broad ocean flowing, 

Once bearing but the Indian bark iu view, 
Now with the sails of Commerce spread and 
glowing, 
Or ploughed and traversed by the fire-canoe. 
AH these in turn, 'till from the neighboring 

height, (15) 
The whole wide prospect bursts upon the 
eight ! 

Sweet Norwich ! thriving City of the land 
First settled by the glorious Pilgrim band ; 
Seat of high worth, of law-abiding peace, 
Of Churches, Schools, and Labor's just in- 
crease ; 
In Industry, an active, human hive. 
Where thousand actors move and buzz and 

strive, 
Intent their own, the common purse to fill, 
By honest toil and well-directed skill ; 



46 NORWICH — A POEM. 

Where life is seen — its varied hopes and fears, 
Its plans, its joys, it sorrows, anci its tears ; 
Where heart-strings tremble with ecstatic 

pleasure. 
Or, rudely touched, send forth grief's mournful 

measure ; 
While o'er thy frame, in constant, vigorous 

sweep. 
Go sti-eams electric and pulsations deep. 
Sweet spot ! how Memory lights each by-gone 

scene, 
Each early friendship and enjoyment keen ! 
How, when the season comes, bright visions 

rise 
Of monster turkeys. and rich pumpkin pies, 
And all the customs, kindly, joyous, gay, 
Wliich mark the period of Thanksgiving Day ! 
Ah ! to thy constant children, deep the pride. 
To note thy virtues, aid thine onward stride. 

Here Beauty loads the air around with 
sweets, 
As with soft grace it floats along the streets, 



NORWICH — A POEM. 47 

Or, bowered at home, encharms domestic life, 
The virtuous daughter and the faithful M'ife. 
No Harem's sensual laws impose restraint 
On tender woman, stifling all complaint ; 
No slavish custom causes dread alarms. 
Nor Eastern veil conceals her blushing charms : 
But, filled with love of mercy, forth she goes, 
To pour the soothing oil o'er human woes ; 
Or leaving friends, and homo, and native land, 
Becomes a pilgrim to some foreign strand, 
To teach benighted heathen souls the way 
Of Life—to smg Redemption's rapturous lay— 
And sheds the blessings of her radiant smiles, 
O'er Earth's dark spots and distant seagirt isles ; 
In pious deed, no toil too great for her. 
Last at the Cross, first at the Sepulckre ! 

Here, mingling in the flowing, living tide. 
The gentle votaries of Plkasure glide ; 
From chaise or gilded chariotee set down, 
Freshly arrived from Upper Plains or Town — 



'*0 UORWICH — A POEM. 

Intent to view each latest costume o'er, 
Found at the fashionable Dry Goods store — 
Where Ely spreads his banner to the wind, 
And BuLKELEY 8ti-ive& to be not far behind. 

There Labob strikes its huge and ponderous 

blows, 
The anvil rings, the mighty furnace glows ; 
The grim machinist, with his steam-twirled 

shaft, 
Assiduous, plies his earnest, useful craft — 
Joining with curious skill and cunning art, 
Each giant fabric to its kindred part. 

Enter with noiseless tread this silent room, 
The chastened dayUght verging into gloom. 
There ardent Genius, with unfaltering heart, 
Pursues the mysteries of creative Art. 
By passion led, with high ambition fired, 
Behold him as he sits, intent, inspired, 
Bent o'er the work with eager, kindling eye ; 
His soul enwraptin silent ecstasy. 



NORWICH — A POEM. 49 

As v?itli laborious touch and studied thought, 
The ideal form is on the canvass wrought. 
Inspiring Art ! worthy thy name — divine ; 
What sacred beauty, magic powers, are thine ! 
Wondrous the effects thou spread'st before our 

eyes, 
To excite our pleasure and create surprise : 
The cultured mind with admiration warms, 
In contemplation of thy varied charms. 
Arrayed in ordered ranks about the walls, 
Upon a life-like gi'oup the vision falls : 
Here, in this picture, we distinctly trace 
The lineaments of some familiar face ; 
There Beauty glows in lovehness and youth, 
Here's Manhood stern portrayed with Nature's 

truth; 
There Childhood beams in all its innocence, 
Here's seen again the fi'iend departed hence. 
Thus with deUght each throbbing bosom fills, 
Each pensive mind with sweet communion 

thrills. 

7 



50 NORWICH — A POEM. 

Go on, Enchanter, with thy magic art. 
Fresh conquests reap, fresh ecstasies impart ,' 
So shalt thou win a name of wide renown, 
Fix on thy brow the fadeless laurel crown, 

" And Music too— dear Music ! that can touch 
Beyond all else, the soul that loves it much ;" 
Now shedding o'er the soul a blissful trance, 
With strains melodious at the brilliant dance ; 
Now, sweetest charm to home's endearments 

lending. 
In perfumed halls with lovely voices blending ; 
Or holier still, when through the dim aisles steal 
The solemn breathings of the organ-peal ; 
Or when at night, for ears of some loved maid, 
Ascends the soft, impassioned serenade. 
O Love ! who ever owned thy magic spell. 
But felt a pleasure which no words can tell ; 
Electric joys — ^rapture beyond control — 
That thrilled and blessed the overflowing soul ! 



NORWICH — A POEM. 51 

Sweet power ! that binds two separate beings in 

one — 
It the hfe-giving, central, shining Sun ; 
That throws the human soul in sweet unrest, 
Like gentle billows on the ocean's breast ; 
That never dies, let come what fortune will, 
But to the last bums strongly, brightly still ; 
That, though long saddened years may inter- 
vene, 
Is treasured up in memory ever green, 
And, while a cruel fate its objects part, 
Yet'lingers fresh and pure within the heart ! 

Here too is Mind at work— keen, active 
thought. 
And many a mental fabric subtly wrought : 
The astute Counsel, deep-learned in the law, 
In arguing keen, relentless on a flaw ; 
The Pastor's themes of terror and of love, 
Designed to lead his hearers' thoughts above ; 



52 NORWICH — A POEM, 

The Doctor, grave, with manners smooth as 

satin, 
Who scares you with lobeha or with Latin, 
Yet, kindest friend ! whose ministrations shed 
Such hope and comfort round the sick man's 

bed: 
He who Instruction's kindly dews distils, 
And now and then his pupils' jackets thrills ; 
And last, although not least, he of the " Press," 
Who writes himself with royalty's address — 
Versed in all knowledge, ancient, modern, 

quaint. 
At once a teacher, lawyer, doctor, saint ! 

But in Wealth's pursuit, such the hurried 
haste, 
We've somewhat lacked a Literary taste. 
H onor to those who like ourselves convene. 
In arid desert, an oasis green ; 
And let this toast a welcome meet from all— 
"The Young Men's Lyceum and Apollo 
Hall !" 



NORWICH A POEM. Od 

Yon beauteous building too, frcsli risen to 

siglit,(16) 
Whose graceful features and proportions light 
Fill with such pleasure the discerning eye— 
A grateful vision to each passer-by- 
Honor to him, the venerated sage, 
Whose hberal thoughts its structure did engage; 
More blessed in future years, his worthy name, 
Than though encircled with the warrior's fame ; 
Holier the offerings destined to ascend — 
Prouder the title— Benefactok, Friend ! 
O Knowledge! what were Life but barren 

waste, 
Thy pleasures rare forbidden to the taste ! 
What, in exchange, could purchase all the bliss 
Conferred on Man (oh, richest gift !) in this : — 
To Know— himself, the outspread world ; to 

trace 
The by-gone history of his kindred race ; 
To gi'asp, enjoy ; collate each useful fact ; 
To think, compare, elect, and then to act ; — 



54 NORWICH — A POEM. 

Nor this alone — to rise ; his God adore ; 
Though chained to Earth, through Heaven's 

expanse to soar. 
Books are the magic lamps, the valued prize, 
Which cause the mental palace to arise ; 
Whose costly gems and ornaments of gold, 
When once possessed, may never more be sold, 
Nor, unsubstantial, vanish into air — 
The morning's wreck, the midnight's only care. 
— Hail ! omen bright of richest good in store— 
Of moral culture and of mental lore. 
Which from thy midst, like vivifying streams. 
Shall issue forth, gladdening with sunlight 

gleams 
The field of Mind, and warming into hfe 
Each flower and fruit with use and beauty rife ! 



Books!— What reflections at that simple 
word 
Ai'ise — what boyish music long unheard ! 



NORWICH — A POEM. 55 

The ancient School-house, where our youthful 

hours 
Were spent bo bhthely 'midst old classic 

bowers — 
Piping with Tytyrus 'neath the shady beach, 
Or treasuring up what signs the seasons teach ; 
Now pouring into " Caesar's Commentary," 
Or accompanying spirits o'er Acheron's ferry ; 
Venturing with ^neas into Tartarus, 
Or Ulysses 'midst some Cyclopian "muss;" 
With many another highly useful tome, 
That told us marvellous tales of Greece and 

Rome, 
How Socrates took hemlock in a cup, 
And geese once woke the Roman sentinels up — 
Well I remember where it used to stand, 
That School-house — since replaced by one more 

grand. 
Along its side, from off the neighboring hill. 
At stated times, there ran a famous rill — 
Our Helicon ; and oft much inspiration 
Did we derive, as, by its wild gyration, 



Ob NOEWICn — A POEM. 

A numerous train of water-wheels were sent 
Whirling and clapping, with an endless bent. 
Friend, School-mate, dost remember the old 

tree — 
'• Choke pears" it bore — which oft we'd climb 

with glee, 
Acting the jjart of tropic imps to pates 
That ventured near — our mischief-loving mates? 
And dost remember how the Master prayed, 
With one eye closed, the other open laid — 
Fulfilling thus the Scriptures, where they say, 
With strict injunction, thou must " watch and 

pray? 
And with what practised ease, when prayer 

was done, 
With both eyes oped, the ferruling begun ? 

Ah ! they are gone, those merry days of yore ! 
The old pear tree remains, but blooms no more ; 
The famous rill's long vanished from the spot — 
Dried at its fount — its wonted course forgot ! 



NORWICH-^A POEM. 57 

And— like the rest— young hearts that then beat 

sti'ong, 
Young eyes, the brightest in that schoolboy 

throng, 
Have long since, pulseless, bearaless, sunk in 

death. 
Their names oft whispered with affection's 

breath ! 
.—To you, my living mates, where'er dispersed, 
Engrossed by ti-affic, or ambition's thirst, 
A kindly greeting !— oh, let's oft repair 
In thought, to that old School-house— mingle 

there 
In spirit as of yore — each steep his soul 
Anew in Youth's refreshing, sparkling bowl : 
As some proud bird of air, that, downwai'd 

bending. 
Now on the water's bosom soft alights, 
Enjoys the cooling waves around it blending, 
Then plumes its wings for higher, nobler 
flights ! 



Ob NORWICH — A POEM. 

But the Muse turns from all these virtues rare, 
To note our frailties— for we have our share. 
What shall be said of that religious zeal, 
Which tends e'en common friendship to 

congeal ; 
Which, while it fills the soul with heavenly fire, 
Makes man regard his fellow-man with ire ; 
Confines benevolence in word and deed. 
To those who yield allegiance to our creed ? 
Nor less remarked, like poisoned arrows flung, 
Arc the base workings of the slanderer's tongue, 
In gi'oss detraction quivering with delight, 
Intent to gratify some petty spite; 
The idle gossip, big with marvellous tale. 
With which some kindred spirit to regale- 
Pouring the venomed di-aughts, like wormwood 

strewed, 
With eager malice through each neighborhood ; 
The meddler, too, who piits his prying nose 
Into each business that his neighbor does — 
Knows with exactness, whether good or bad. 
What for a breakfast his next neighbor had — 



NORWICH — A POEM. 59 

Who, vulture-like, smells mischief in the 

breeze, 
And from his smelling swears he clearly sees ; 
The politician, so intemperate, 
His every feehng "s turned to bitter hate ; 
The knave who grinds the faces of the poor, 
That to his wealth he may aimex the more ; 
The moral coward, who for sake of gain, 
Or loving Truth less than the " speech of men," 
Smothers conviction, trims his wary course. 
Lives on, a selfish hypocrite, or worse ; 
The fawning parasite, who seeks to ride 
In Fashion's ti'ain — to swell the popular side — 
Joining his jackal cry to Lion's bass — 
That "Lion," stripped, too often found an 

»dss ; 
The pert reformer, who bold license takes, 
And with men's names outrageous havoc makes, 
Scattering his vile, malicious shafts around. 
And teaching truth with fierce, vindictive 

sound ; 



The silly fop, who struts and— but alas, 

"God made him," Portia cries, "so let him 

pass !" 
The aristocrat, in fine, puffed up with pride, 
Who seeks to place a barrier high and wide 
'Twixt him and those he terms the common 

classes. 
On whom he looks contemptuously as he 

passes. 
Vain, witless man ! he little knows the smiles 
His follies cause 'mongst those he thus reviles ; 
With what cool judgment they proceed to weigh 
His just deserts, regardless of display, 
And see beneath the tinsel covering, 
Naught but the worm itself — the vile, weak 

thing! 

Thus have we scanned the Past and Present- 
shown 
The aspects, changes, of our model Town. 
Oh, who can tell the destiny in store 
For thee, sweet Place ! Futurity explore ? 



NORWICH — A POEM. 61 

■» 

What great and noble end thou may'st attain, 
Ere yet the poet sings thy praise again? 
'Tis not in vain the dancing shuttle gleams, 
The ponderous wheel makes music to thy 

streams — 
Thy heart is ti*aversed by the railway car. 
The telegraph connects thee with afar ; 
'Tis not in vain, in stateliness appear. 
Those sti'uctures v^hich thy merchant princes 

rear — 
The bustling sounds which active Commerce 

brings, 
The drayman rattUng, as the sailor sings — 
While freighted barks in quick succession glide 
O'er Thames's ghstening, gently-flowing tide : 
Nor yet in vain thy witching daughters bloom, 
In opulence, or round the busy loom- 
Like flowers of varied form and brightest hue. 
Adorning, each, the spot whereon it gi-ew. 
Peace to thy Children ! prospered be thy ways ! 
Basking beneath Heaven's kindest, sunniest 
rays. 



62 NORWICH A POEM. 

Thy virtues on our hearts let's deeply trace, 

Thy faults endeavor wisely to erase ; 

Thy natural beauties more and naore admire, 

Fit to be sung by most exalted lyre. 

— Go forth into the w^oods, where Nature reigns, 

As to its close the year now slowly wanes — 

View with enraptured sight the gorgeous scene, 

Where all of late was one unvarying green : 

What brilliant tints, what variegated hues. 

And matchless beauty now the eye pursues — 

As if kind Nature all her colors stored 

Had o'er the woods in one full torrent poured ; 

Intent that ere the foliage passed away, 

She would present one vmsurpassed display ! 

Long since the wild-ilower faded where it grew, 

But to the sky it lent a deeper blue ; 

And though the Earth assumes a vestment 

brovra. 
The verdant grass has dry and withered gi'own. 
The leaves before the Autumn breezes fly, 
That hurry past with low and mournful sigh. 



NORWICH — A POEM. 63 

Though ceased the lark, and sporting through 

the bush 
Rarely are seen the robbin and the thrush — 
Who but remembers all this wide decay 
Betokens but a future, brighter day, 
When shall be heard anew the choral voice 
Of Nature, bidding all her sons Rejoice ! 



SntBs. 



Note 1. 
Norwich is no less remarkable for her posi- 
tion, than for her striking scenery ; being loca- 
ted at the head of the River Thames, which is 
formed by the junction of two branches — the 
Yantic and the Shetucket ; the town occupying 
the intervening tract between the two last 
named streams, and also stretching along the 
western bank of the Thames. 

Note 2. 
The first settlement of Norwich was made in 
1660, by a company from Saybrook, at the head 
of which was Capt. John Mason, — a man of 
great energy, and a conspicuous actor in the 
early settlement of the State. 



Gd 



Note 3. 
To tLis church the people used to repair with 
fire-arms upon their shoulders, which were not, 
however, carried into the house, but stacked 
without, in some convenient position to be 
watched by a person at one of the windows. — 
Miss Calkins^s History of Norwich. 

Note 4. 
The bloody and protracted warfare between 
the Mohegans, under Uncas, and the Narragan- 
setts, under Miantinomo, and the fearful scenes 
which marked the period of King Philip's war, 
are topics familiar to most readers. Trumbull, 
in his History of Connecticut, treats largely of 
these sanguinary struggles, and of the difficul- 
ties and perils which beset the early settlers. 
Some interesting remarks on this subject may 
also be found in Miss Calkins's History of Nor- 
wich, to which we hereafter make reference. 



Note 5, 

Trading Cove, — celebrated as a place of 

resort for the Indians in their trading operations 

with the whites. A fancied scene of this kind 

has been finely executed by Mr. J. D. Crocker of 



this city. The picture is in the possession of 
J. G. W. Trumbull, Esq. 

We would here observe that the engraving of 
Christ Church, which adorns these pages, is 
from a painting executed by this artist. 



Note 6. 
The pencil of Mr. Crocker has spiritedly il- 
lustrated this scene in his picture entitled " The 
Fhght of Miantinomo," — now the property of 

Erastiis WilUams, Esq. 

Note 7. 
The grain sprang thick and tall, and hid in green 
The blackened hillside ; ranks of spiky maize 
Rose like a host embattled ; the buckwheat 
Whitened broad acres, sweetening with its 

flowers 
The August wind.— Brj/ttnf. 

Note 8. 
Land, at this early period, was given away 
with a lavish hand. Grants were often made in 
this indefinite manner :— ' where he can find it,' 
— 'over the river,' — 'at any place free from en- 
gagement to another,' — 'at some convenient 



68 



place in the common lands,' — ' atractnot inclu- 
ded in former grants,' — ' what land may be suit- 
able for him,' — ' as much as he needs in any un- 
divided land,' &c.— Miss Calkins's History. 

Note 9. 
And hearts, where, slow but deep, the seeds 
Of vengeance ripened into deeds. 

Moore^s Fire Worshippers, 

Note ] 0. 
Then oft, while checkering moonlight fell 

Your woven boughs between — 
Fond lovers' vows were interchanged 
Beneath your altars green. 

Mrs. Sigourney, 

Note 11. 
The tradition is that the Narragansetts were 
first discovered as they were crossing the She- 
tucket at a fording place, near the junction of 
the Quinebaug.— Miss Calkins^ s History. 

Note 12. 
Goldsmith—" Deserted Village." 



69 



Note 13. 
The monument on Uncas's grave was caused 
to be erected by the Ladies of Norwich. The 
foundation stone was laid at the time of the 
visit of Gen. Jackson to this city in 1833. 

Note 14. 
The gi*ave of Uncas, as has been stated, is 
in the Indian burying ground near the Yantic 
Falls ; that of Miantinomo is in Sachem's Plain, 
(the place of his capture by Uncas,) near the 
banks of the Shetucket and a short distance 
above Greeneville. A space of about two miles 
divides the graves of these two redoubtable 
Chiefs and mortal enemies. 

Note 15. 
One of the most commanding views of Nor- 
wich, including the river, harbor, Landing, 
Falls, and a distant prospect of the Tovra, may 
be obtained from Pepper's, or, according to its 
modez-n nomenclature, Laurel Hill — ^just across 
the Railroad Bridge at the mouth of the She- 
tucket. This spot, by the bye, including about 
100 acres, has recently been purchased by a 
company, consisting of Messrs, John A. Rock- 



70 



well, Thomas Robinson, and Henry Bill,— con- 
veniently laid out into building lots, — and from 
its propinquity to the city, and its attractive lo- 
cality, bids fair ere long to present the appear- 
ance of a smiling village. 

Note 16. 
The reference here is to the Otis Library, an 
engraving of which appears on the title-page. 
ITiis entire enterprise has thus far been esta- 
blished and furnished by Joseph Otis, Esq., 
a much respected and a most benevolent citizen 
of Norwich, and is by him designed as a gra- 
tuitous offering to the present and coming gen- 
erations of his native town. It is under the 
management of a Board of Trustees, consisting 
of the Rev. Dr. Bond, Messrs. William A. Buck- 
ingham, J. G. W. Trumbull, George Perkins, 
Robert Johnson, Charles Johnson, and Doct. 
W. Hooker, with power to perpetuate their 
number by an election from the citizens of Nor- 
wich, as vacancies may occur. The site was 
purchased at a cost of $850, in the year 1848, 
and the building erected and furnished at a cost 
of about $5,700. Provision is made for a Pas- 
toral Library of $1,000 value, of which about 



71 



$500 is already expended ; and for a Citizens' 
Library of six to eight thousand volumes, of 
which twenty-three hundred volumes are al- 
ready furnished, at a cost of $2,300 ; making 
the full expenditure about $9,350. The Library 
Room is furnished with the portraits of thirty 
Gentlemen ; among them are those of the Donor 
of the Library, of each member of the Board of 
Trustees, and of several of the past and pre- 
sent Officers and Directors of the Norwich 
Bank, including some of our most aged citizens, 
who have recently deceased. They are the 
work of Mr. A. H. Emmons, of our own town ; 
and their examination will repay a visit, to any 
person of taste, and ensure high commendation 
to the artist. 

These portraits are the property of Charles 
Johnson, Esq., painted expressly for him by Mr. 
Emmons. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




015 863 466 1 # 



